


Demimonde

by lilstrawbaby



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angry Bedelia, Bedelia is Savage, Bedelia's Early Years, Discussion of Abortion, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family Drama, Family Secrets, Fun with Nana and Papa, History Lessons, Intimacy, Late Nights, Married Couple, Miscarriage, Nana Bedelia, Papa Hannibal, Parenthood, Pregnancy, Protective Hannibal, Questions, Secrets Revealed, Truths revealed, Upir, Vampires, Wine and cookies, blended families - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 01:26:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8425342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilstrawbaby/pseuds/lilstrawbaby
Summary: Theirs is a secret world lived in plain sight, but at the heart of it, is family.





	1. Chapter 1

Hannibal was driving slowly and steadily into Bedelia, adding a twist of his hips when he was balls deep, grinning at her wails of agonized pleasure. He loved to see her this way, wanton and undone, lost in her heat. Feeling the first flutters, he carefully lowers himself onto her, resting his weight on his forearms, pressing his forehead against her collarbone.

He groaned in rapture as she sank her teeth into his skin, trembling against him, her thighs gripping his hips tightly. Going lax beneath him and lowering her legs, lying supine, panting, her hands sliding down his back to his ass, pulling him against her hard as she grinned wickedly. Chuckling at her, he began again, moving slowly at first, building up to the big finish. But before he lost control, he pulled her legs up, his hands resting behind her knees as he pushed them up and out.

"Do it," she snarled, bearing her teeth at him.

"Yes ma'am."

He sank into her again and again, repeatedly bumping her cervix, making her positively howl as she gripped the pillow beneath her head with both hands until her knuckles were white. He pounded into her, emitting animalistic grunts as he lost control. Groaning her name, he came as her third orgasm claimed her, her nails raking down his back and cries abruptly muffled by his mouth as he kissed her deeply, his hips slowing to a stop.

"Oh God, that was so good," Bedelia sighed, cupping his face with her hands, smiling lazily.

"It always is, my love, but we should get up. We have company." He rolled off of her, getting to his feet and stretching languidly. He poured himself a glass of brandy, swirling and inhaling deeply before taking a sip.

"What?"

"We have guests already. You must get up and be presentable."

"Fuck," she muttered, slowly sitting up. "Why do they always descend when we're trying to have to 'us' time?"

"It's homing instinct," he joked, laughing outright when she hit him in the face with a pillow. "Come now, you know this is our annual family weekend and we have been expecting our guests to start arriving at any time."

"At least let me go down there first. You are always so obvious when you appear before I do."

"I can't help it, wind beneath my wings. No one can satisfy me like you can."

Rolling her eyes, she privately admitted the truth of his statement, but would never tell him he was correct. This was no time to set a precedent. Climbing out of bed, she padded to the bathroom, wiping their essences from between her thighs. She freshened up, repaired her hair and makeup, donning fresh clothes. Kissing his cheek before she left, she started down the staircase and heard a voice calling.

"Anyone home?"

As she peered over the landing, she broke into an all-too-rare grin, including teeth, and hurried down the remaining steps. "Seb! Come here and hug me, you brat."

He laughed, looking and sounding just like his father, sweeping her up into his arms and whirling her around to make her laugh. "Mom! It's so good to see you. How are you?"

"Very well, dear. Now, put your poor old Mother down before she breaks something."

"Oh please, you look radiant as always." He kissed her cheek, giving her a discreet sniff.

"You are just like your father," she scolded, pushing him away playfully. "Have you seen-Oh, I'm terribly sorry. Sebastian Du Maurier, I raised you with better manners than that. Who is this lovely lady waiting to be introduced?"

Grinning, he held out his hand to the tall brunette with sky blue eyes he had brought with him. "Mother dear, this is Phoebe, my fiancée."

Her face betrayed no emotion, but she felt as if she had been slapped. "Fiancée? Sebastian, why didn't you tell us? We would have had a proper reception."

"Mrs. Du Maurier, please don't be cross. I asked him to keep it a secret. I had hoped to to tell everyone tonight, at supper. I guess he kept it in as long as he could." Phoebe chuckled, playfully punching him in the arm.

Looking at her son with wide blue eyes, she said, "An American. You've been back home?"

"No, Mom, I met her at Oxford. She's in school there, a grad student."

"How lovely. Phoebe, it's so nice to meet you. I'm Bedelia, Seb's mom, since my son has forgotten his manners. My husband, Hannibal, will be along soon." She clasped the brunette's hands and smiled warmly.

"Yes ma'am. You as well, ma'am."

"South Carolina? I'm going to guess Charleston?"

"Very good!" Phoebe grinned, flashing deep dimples in both cheeks.

"I visited there once. The cuisine was excellent."

"I was so happy to be accepted in England. I'm used to fresh catch and can't bear the frozen stuff."

"Pheeb, why don't we get settled, Mom can round up Dad, and you can meet him?"

"Sounds great."

As she passed, Bedelia gave her a discreet sniff. He saw his mother's nostrils flare and he attempted to hustle past her, but she reached out quicker than a viper strike, gripping his arm tightly. He knew what that meant and he was not looking forward to the coming conversation, especially as her grip became a vicious pinch before she released him. Without a word, she swept out of sight, into the kitchen, where she greeted the cook and snagged a freshly baked ginger snap with a cheeky grin as she ran up the back stairs. 

She met Hannibal in the hallway and pushed him back into their bedroom, closing the door with a bang. He looked at her with raised eyebrows, wondering at the cause of her sudden extreme displeasure.

"What's wrong, music of my heart?"

"Will you be serious, Hannibal? Sebastian has brought home his fiancée."

"His what?"

"You heard me.

Hannibal growled angrily, "How could he do this? On this weekend?"

"Either she already knows or he thinks she will understand."

"Most people cannot accept the truth of us. He must have brought her here as a peace offering."

"No, Hannibal, he has proposed to her, he introduced her as he fiancée. He was warning me up front. She asked me not to be angry with him because she asked him to wait to announce it to us. She wanted to tell us tonight, but she thinks he was too excited to wait. Those were her words."

"Damn him! He knows how important this weekend is to us!"

"Don't start on him. He hasn't been home in three years. I am begging you, don't surrender to your anger and drive him away again."

"You have always babied him, Delia! You have petted and spoiled him almost to the point of uselessness! It's time he started acting like a man."

"He is my baby. And what do you want from him, my love? To be you? He isn't you, he is a separate person, and yet he is so like you I can't understand how you are unable to see it!"

He deflated at her words, knowing all too well she was right. "I just expect him to act as if he has some sort of plan for the future that involves standing on his own two feet, not being a lifelong college student."

"He doesn't need another scolding from you, beloved. I wish you could start talking to him as the man he is and not the child you remember."

"What would I do without you , my keeper of wisdom?" He bracketed her face with both hands, kissing her lips sweetly.

"Use your cheesy nicknames on someone else?"

"Devil woman."

She laughed as he picked her up, her legs winding around his waist like kudzu, her arms around his neck. "I love you."

"Love you too."

A sharp rap on the door preceded Sebastian poking his head into the room, killing the mood. Releasing her hold at Seb's sound of disgust, Hannibal set her on her feet and she turned to her son.

"Seb, you know better. You've known the routine since you were a toddler."

"Yes, I do," he admitted wryly, "But I thought you'd like to know the rest of the clan is here."

Smiling her closed mouth smile, she crossed the room to him, touching his cheek. "Thank you, baby. We will be down in a moment."

"No funny business." He wagged his finger at them and ducked out of the room.

"The cheek of that boy," Hannibal grumbled, pulling her back against his chest.

"He's your son."

"Yes, I supposed he is."

"You wouldn't want it any other way." She smiled slyly, tilting her head back to meet his eyes. "Are you ready or do you need a moment?"

"You know me, my warm summer breeze, I'm always ready."

~end part one~


	2. Chapter 2

Everyone was astonished by Seb's news, but gave no indication of it. A quick cast of their gazes to Bedelia, unnoticed by Phoebe, was the only indicator of their concerns. This was her weekend, surrounded by her beloved family, to cherish and be cherished. This was a once a decade event, steeped in tradition, the most sacred of family rites. Phoebe's presence could seriously fuck things up for all of them, the least of which being the fact that she was a stranger.

It was definitely going to be an interesting weekend.

The cook had assisted Hannibal in preparing Bedelia's favorite meal to kick the weekend off. Guests were expected to dress for dinner, an old-world custom he refused to let go of, but a compromise she was enchanted by. There was so little grace and charm left in the world anymore; the constant push for progress, convenience and an utter lack of personal responsibility by greedy, blood thirsty self-proclaimed masters of the universe had stripped the world of simple pleasures.

Hannibal, already dressed in a navy suit and red tie, was overseeing the final touches. Bedelia floated into the kitchen in a strapless black silk sheath dress that accented her ample breasts and tiny waist, and had a slit up her thigh. He whistled at her, making her smile, and circled the butcher block to kiss her cheek.

"You look ravishing, my love."

"As do you, ra' īmu."

"You're going back in time tonight. Feeling nostalgic, mieloji?"

"I am. Sometimes I miss the nomadic life, but I'm happy here, with you and our children."

"I'm happy that you are happy. That is all I ever want for you, beloved."

"Ah, now who's feeling nostalgic?"

"Is good life, jah?" Martha, the cook, smiled at the two. "I am so glad you let me take care of you, Miz Bedelia."

"Martha, I would be lost without you," Bedelia declared, kissing the older Norwegian woman on each cheek. "And our Hannibal would have no one to challenge and be challenged by in the kitchen, his other true love."

He wrapped his arm around her waist, dropping a soft kiss to the side of her neck, rather than mussing her carefully coiffed golden locks. "You are my one true love."

"Jah, jah, take it outta my kitchen. Hannibal, if I catch you in here tonight making vhoopie, I kick your ass myself."

"Yes ma'am."

"Gut. Now get the hell out, I got vork to do."

The couple chuckled good-naturedly at her threats, knowing she wasn't kidding, but respecting her too much to to disobey. Arm in arm, they entered the formal parlor where groups of people chatted, drank and smoked. The preternaturally attractive couple worked the room, greeting family and friends alike. Both could see how everyone was cautiously drawn to the lovely, vivacious Phoebe. She was a sweet person, she seemed to truly love Sebastian, and she wanted nothing more than for his family to like her. As they moved from room to room, they reached the same consensus.

Three bells announced dinner and everyone began making their way into the dining room, where a buffet-style dinner was set up. Because of the large group, the dining room table was moved into the ballroom and a number of folding tables and chairs had been set up to accommodate their brood and the rest of the extended family.

As was their custom, everyone filled their own plates and sat. While Hannibal and Bedelia insisted on being last through the line, they encouraged everyone to begin eating. Despite it going against the tradition, they were always playfully exasperated that everyone waited until they were seated at the head and end of the dining room table, respectfully. Shaking her head, Bedelia took a bite, noting Phoebe made the sign of the cross and bowed her head. It was quick and silent and she crossed herself again before placing the linen cloth in her lap. The older couple shared a glance, barely concealing their surprise, the the slight shake of his head smoothed her ever-so-slightly puckered brow.

Phoebe had expressed her surprise at the size of the family, unable to believe Bedelia had borne so many children. While on first glance she did not seem the mothering type, especially six times, it was obvious in the way she listened to them, spoke to them, and looked at them with a mother's love, that she adored each and every one.

Sebastian's older sister, Embeth, caught her eyes and smiled. "Mother says you're from Charleston. South Carolina?"

"Yes." She smiled warmly. "Do you live in Europe too or are you in America?"

"I live in Bucharest. I was born there, you see. My parents met there on one of those post-graduation backpacking trips to Europe. They fell in love, got married and settled there for a time. When my father was offered a job at the British museum, we moved there. Jack and Faith were born in London, Sean in Galway when Father went to investigate a report of group of stones with ancient runes carved in them. Anna and Sebastian were born in New York, where Father was working at a museum."

"Wow, that is amazing. I was born and raised in Charleston. I graduated from the University of South Carolina. And I was so lucky to get accepted at Oxford. It's the first time I've ever left the US."

"This must be culture shock for you."

"Yes, it is," she giggled. "I'm still adjusting, even after a year. I have learned how to drive on the correct side of the road, which is like, a personal triumph."

"It's strangely familiar yet obviously different," Embeth joked.

"I completely agree."

"Are you and Seb planning to settle here or return to America?"

"We're both homesick. I believe we'll go back home after I graduate."

Lowering her voice, Embeth confided, "Stay strong. Seb is her baby and I expect her to do almost anything to keep him close."

Wide-eyed, Phoebe asked, "Are you kidding me?"

"I wish I was. It isn't because she had some weird attachment thing going on, he's just the child she sees the least."

"I know, he told me about his falling out with Hannibal. Honestly, I can see both sides of it, but don't tell Seb I said so."

"Your secret is safe with me."

"So, Seb didn't tell me what the big celebration is, just that it's a family thing."

"Oh, well every ten years, we have a big family weekend, invite the entire clan, to celebrate the family, it's history and have blessing ceremony for health, fertility and happiness. I know it sounds pagan or whatever, but it's a family tradition and Mother and Father insist on observing the traditions."

"I think it's a lovely idea. Coming together as a family and wishing good thoughts for everyone is like, at the root of all family reunions."

Phoebe suddenly went pale and swayed slightly. Concerned, Embeth asked, "Are you all right? Seb! Come here, now."

"Pheeb, honey, are you feeling ill again?" Rushing to her side, he helped her to her feet, wrapping an arm around her waist. "I'm going to take her upstairs and get her settled, I'll be right back."

Once the two were out of hearing, Embeth looked at her mother sharply. "Did you know?"

"The second she walked through the door. I could smell it on her."

"Know what?"

Bedelia rolled her eyes at her husband's obvious oversight. "She's pregnant, Hannibal, couldn't you smell it on her?"

"It's not possible."

"And yet, here we are, ra' īmu. And we have to decide what we're going to do because he has not yet reached physical maturity. I certainly do not want to be the one to have to tell him it isn't his."

"As I see it, he has two options. He must take her away tomorrow first thing or he must offer her," Henri said firmly.

"It is your mother's decision." Hannibal's voice echoed like thunder through the room. "She is the Mother of our clan and her word is law, her will is iron. Do not let me hear you've gone to her on the sly attempting to dissuade her from the course she has chosen because you like this girl. Do you understand?"

Quietly, each person uttered, "Yes, Father."

"Good, now please eat. Enjoy the feast Martha and I worked so hard on."

Ten minutes later, Seb returned to a much subdued atmosphere and most of the clan would not look at him. He adored his mother and deeply respected her, he had never bucked her authority. His father was another matter. He had stood toe to toe with him more than once and stalked over to him to do it again.

Hannibal calmly looked into his son's eyes, placing his linen on the table beside his plate. "How is Phoebe, does she need a doctor?"

"As if you care," Sebastian snapped.

"I am concerned for her welfare, and our grandchild's." Smirking, he rose to his feet, facing his son. "We are much older, son, we could smell it on her. Your Mother caught it first. But she cannot be here, not this weekend."

"She's going to be my wife! She has to learn our ways!"

"Don't be naive, māru," Bedelia said in her quietly commanding way. Rising, she moved to his side and touched his face lovingly. "She is human and she will never understand or accept it. She will fear us. We cannot risk her exposing our kind to the world. Or have you forgotten our history with the humans so quickly?"

"She's different, Mom, I know it."

"She isn't different enough and deep down you know it or you would have already begun telling her about us. Or been forced to turn her because of her reaction to our truth."

"I love her. We're going to have a child."

"And how will she react when her child refuses her human mother's milk in favor of mother's blood?" With great sadness, she watched his shoulders slump and took his hands in hers. "I have witnessed four thousand four hundred and sixteen years of human history. One thing never changes-lack of human tolerance for anything different from them. You are my children, all of you, whether the fruit of my womb, by marriage, or by blood. Our kind are matriarchal and the Mother of the clan's word is law. It is a Mother's burden to love her children beyond reason, to wish to protect them, even from themselves. We have all loved a human at one time or another, but we have never forgotten the rules. You have forgotten the rules, māru. You must make a choice, now, let her go or offer her to me."

"And if I choose to leave forever?"

"It is by your wish and will. You will never be welcome again. All that is ours is denied to you, you will be erased from memory and forgotten."

"What if I turn her?"

"Both she and the child will die. We cannot turn a woman with child, as you know. I am not insensitive to your feelings, I wish things could be different, but they are not. I like the girl and I don't wish her any harm, but the choice is yours. Take tonight to think on it, but tomorrow morning, you must act."

Bedelia gave his hands an affectionate squeeze and returned to her seat. A low murmur of resumed conversations brought him to attention as he met Hannibal's sad look. He gave his son's shoulders a pat of manly affection.

"I am always available if you wish to discuss anything. While you are considering your options, please don't forget that we love you."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Any time, my son." He started to turn, but was stopped by a voice.

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"Mind if we talk?"

~end part two~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The language Bedelia is speaking is Akkadian and based on an Akkadian dictionary I found online. Seeing as it's a long-dead language (spoken by the Assyrians in Mesopotamia around 2400 BC), I'm relying solely on what it says the words mean.
> 
> Ra' īmu-beloved, loved one  
> Ra' intu (f)-beloved, loved one  
> Dādu-love name  
> Māru-son, boy  
> Ummu-Mother  
> Mārtu rabītu-eldest daughter


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay y'all, I temporarily lost the will to like, do everything.

"Ummu?"

Bedelia looked up from the book she was reading and smiled lovingly at her eldest child. "Yes, Julia?"

"Can we talk?"

"Of course, mārtu rabītu, have a seat." She pulled her legs against her chest so her daughter could sit beside her on the sofa. "Is something wrong?"

"No, we're all right. But I am worried about Seb, about what is going to happen. I don't want Phoebe to get hurt, but I understand what we have to do and why."

"He will do what he has to do and we will do what we have to."

"Ummu?"

"Yes, mārtu?"

"Have you ever had to um, punish a child in that way?"

Softly, she answered in a choked voice, "Once. It nearly killed me to do it, but I did. It was before Embeth was born."

"That's what happened to Lucrezia?"

"She left me no choice." Lowering her head, she closed her eyes, wishing she could burn the sight and sound from her memory. "Your father had to pull me away when she started screaming and fighting. He held me back, until it was over. And after, when I wanted to die too, he and Hannibal kept me occupied, so I could learn to deal with it in my own way."

"But you hate my father."

"I don't hate him, I hate the things he did and the person he became because of them. I never hid from you the kind of man he was, but I never spoke ill of him to you children. I wanted you to see him clearly, without my anger and bitterness clouding your judgement."

"And I did."

"Yes, mārtu, you did. It was also my fault, I had horrible taste in men. Meeting Hannibal was the best thing that ever happened to me."

"He is good for you. He has been a good father to us all. Our world is small, how did we not meet him before?"

"Because I made him, dearest," Bedelia said calmly, smiling gently. "He was a famous cook for one of the royal families, I cannot recall which now. I took Lucrezia with me, she looked old enough and it was the perfect time to begin searching for a husband for her. Upir or human, it didn't matter because she could transform him if necessary. You remember how things were, a natural Upir was ideal, but to make ones husband was just as appealing if it was truly love and not a marriage for status or financial gain."

"I'm so glad those days are gone. It made life so tedious."

"The only upside was dispatching them and taking control of their fortune. But I digress. An especially tempting coachman confessed to me she had slipped into the kitchen to meet the cook and I rushed in to find her draining him. I intervened, God forgive me, I slapped her and called her a fool, and dragged him outside to our carriage. He was nearly dead, so I turned him."

"Why? You could have easily disposed of him."

"Because he had a gift and he didn't deserve to die because of your sister had no self-control or sense of self-preservation. You remember how her father was. His own clan put him down after she was born. They were there the day I had to...end her life. They wanted to offer their support and express their regret that his madness passed to her."

"I never wanted to tell you this because I wasn't sure if you would believe it, but she was the one who attacked Henri, not her father's clan."

"I knew, beloved, that was another of my reasons for choosing to end her life. It was her attempted to seduce Hannibal that forced my hand. He was deeply upset and embarrassed because although we had been lovers for years before, we were still newlyweds."

"Oh my God. I'm so sorry, Ummu. I wish now I'd paid more attention, that I had been there to help you."

"It wasn't your responsibility, Jules. Good parents don't lean on their children, they don't involve them in their problems. In fact, they try to hide them so their kids feel safe and secure."

"I wasn't a child, though."

Smiling, Bedelia tenderly cupped Julia's chin. "Old habits, as they say. I know you saw and heard things mārtu rabītu, and I will forever regret that. I did my best to protect you all, but sometimes it wasn't enough."

"It was a different time and place, Ummu, but the elder children understand that. You always put us first. If they were a threat to us, to our safety or happiness, you kicked them to the curb. You've been a good mother, I hope you don't doubt that."

"All mothers do," she chuckled, chucking Julia's chin gently, "Which you already know, so what's the story?"

~*~*

"Sit down, Seb," Hannibal said, taking a seat on the sofa in his office. "I take it you wish to discuss your options?"

"The child will be Upir, Dad. I cannot walk away and leave her with that."

"Nor can you stay, unless you wish to be erased from the family annals. You have made your bed, son, and now your must lie in it, as the saying goes."

"Can I turn her after the child is born?"

"Your mother did not give you that option."

"Why? She turned you!"

"To save my life because Lucrezia-she did not do it with selfish disregard for her clan."

"Is it selfish to keep her?"

"Yes," he sighed, looking in to the distance. "But I understand your feelings. You don't just stop loving someone because you have to."

"What should I do?"

"How does she feel about abortion?"

"She's pro-life."

"Say whatever you have to say to end things. Blame your mother and me if you have to. Offer to pay for the abortion and all of her medical care and make sure she gets it."

His voice shaking, he said, "I'm not doing this because you and Mom will it. I'm doing it because I know one way or another, this will end very badly. I love her too much to put her through that."

"My son, you finally know what real love is. It means thinking of the other person's needs before your own and doing what is best for them."

"We will leave first thing in the morning and and I will end things when we get back."

"I'm sorry, Seb, I really am. Your mother is too, even if she cannot show it now. We do like her."

"I'm going to check on Phoebe. Thank you for speaking with me."

"Of course, you're my son. I'm always available if your need to talk about anything."

Both men stood and Sebastian held out his hand. Hannibal took it, pulling him in for a hug. They patted each other's backs in manly way and Seb left the room. Pouring two generous glasses of a forty year old scotch, he left and went in search of his wife. As if on cue, she and Jules left the library together.

One look at Hannibal and Jules could practically hear the chorus of Hungry Eyes. She snorted, receiving odd looks from both of them. Shaking her head, she raised her hand and said, "I'm going to bed. Happy humping."

Flushing hotly, Bedelia gasped, "Julia!"

Without a word, Julia left them alone. Hannibal, grinning with amusement, handed her a cut-glass tumbler, and slid his arm around her waist. "She was just stating the obvious, mieloji."

"I'm really not comfortable with my kids talking about our sex life."

"You and I have had 890 years and 137 kids together. I'm certain everyone knows we're having sex. Together."

"Shut up," she laughed, elbowing him. "Come on, dādu, we have another child to make. It's been twenty-seven years, after all."

"We could give up on the baby-making business, enjoy each other and the grandkids."

"Mother doesn't stop until she can no longer have children. Perhaps I have no ova left and Seb will be our last."

"When did your Mother stop?" He guided her into their bedroom, closing and locking the door.

"She hasn't."

"Good God, your Mother was the first of our kind, between cavemen and modern Homo sapiens. How does she have any ova left?"

"Well, since we have no menstrual cycle, the ova just waits for fertilization, once a decade."

"Tell me more about the fertilization process, Dr. Du Maurier," he said with a leer.

Primly, she responded, "Mother was the authority on Upir reproduction, ra'īmu."

He growled, snagging her around the waist and pulling her into the circle of his arms, enjoying the sound of her laughter. It had taken a hundred years, but he had finally gotten through the minefields, pitfalls, across the drawbridge and through the castle walls to her. And she was worth every difficult moment.

"I love you, Delia.

"I love you too, Peacock."

He flipped her onto her back on the bed, pinning her down with his body and scowling despite her laughter. "You know I hate it when you call me that."

"Those are my first memories of you, after I turned you. Handsome, sexy, alluring and determined to make me your mate. Back then, I was teasing you. Today, it is said with great affection."

"It should be 'lion tamer', you know," he teased, leaning in the breathe in her scent, just beneath her jaw.

Giggling, she ran her fingers through his hair and murmured, "Definitely. I was a handful back then."

"Still are, when you want to be."

Resting her hand on his nape, she pulled his head down to hers, nuzzling him like a friendly cat. Chuckling, he held her head gently, kissing her sweetly. Driven by hormones, she responded hungrily, deepening the kiss, sliding one leg up and around the back of his thigh, using the leverage to grind her pelvis against his abdomen.

Sinking to his knees at the foot of the bed, he gripped her hips, pulling her to the edge. Hooking her knees over his shoulders, he slid the skirt of her dress up over her hips, smirking at the discovery she was nude and dripping and he had barely touched her yet.

He groaned at the first taste of her because nothing compared to this, not even a gorgeous, 16 year old virgin with an AB negative blood type. He slipped one finger inside her and withdrew, adding a second finger as he pushed into her. Massaging the magical spot on the front wall, his tongue laved and suckled the knot of tissue that would have her wailing and gushing and tugging fistfuls of his hair. Reducing her to a boneless mass of limbs was his favorite hobby.

She fought valiantly, but ultimately her body disobeyed her commands. He removed her dress while she was limp and lost in the ether of an amazing climax, kissing and licking his way back up her body as he burrowed his hands beneath her shoulders. Rolling onto his back, pulling her with him, her arms and legs splayed on either side of him, she began to return to herself. Whispering her name and pretty love words, he brushed his lips over her carotid before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh, tasting her.

"Hannibal," she whined, her nails sinking into the meat of his shoulders as she turned her head to give him better access.

"I know, mieloji," he murmured, licking the wound to soothe it as her body healed itself. "You can have a taste too."

Pulling her arms in, she pinned his wrists to the mattress, pushing herself upright and rising to her knees over him. Smiling seductively, she began to undulate her pelvis, rubbing against the bulge of his fly. He groaned helplessly, arching his hips. Leaning over him, her long hair fell like a curtain concealing them from the outside world, her eyes met his. Biting her lower lip coyly, she pressed her hips down, their crotches rubbing together, creating a delicious friction.

"Delia, please," he panted, his jaw tight.

"Please what?"

"Don't tease, I can't take it."

"Aww, poor baby," she crooned, her lap dance continuing unabated, a wicked smirk on her lips. "Do you want me? Need me?"

"God yes, please, baby."

"Mmm, 'baby'. You must really be on edge. You only break out the sweet talk when-"

He grunted and said, "At this point, I can hump your leg and enjoy it, but I don't think that will make you very happy."

Smirking, she purred, "I'll relieve your suffering, but first you have to say it."

"Delia."

"Say it."

"Come on," he whined, "Put me out of my misery."

"Oh, I'm going to destroy you in the best possible way, ra'īmu. But first, you have to say it."

He quickly muttered, "My Goddess, my Queen, my love, my mate, without you I am nothing."

"What? What was that? I didn't hear you."

"My Goddess, my Queen, my love, my mate, without you I am nothing."

"That's more like it."

With supernatural speed, she had his pants off and was crawling over him like a predator going in for the kill. Taking him in hand, she slowly sank onto him, her head falling back as she moaned at the delicious stretch.

Caressing her skin from shoulders, down her rib cage to her hips, Hannibal greedily drank in the sight of her taking her pleasure from him. She was always a passionate lover, but during her heat, she was practically insatiable. Lying as still as he could, he watched as she used him, distracting himself from his own need to let her have all she could stand before he gave her that final, explosive finish she truly desired.

Leaning back, she braced her hands on his thighs and worked her hips, staring down at him through half-opened eyes. Whimpering, she shuddered, biting her lower lip, her internal muscles fluttering around him. She whimpered as his grip tightened and he began pulling her against him hard, his feet flat on the mattress to give him leverage as he drove up into her.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" She collapsed onto his chest, trembling and gasping for breath.

Pulling out of her, Hannibal rolled her over, rose up on his knees and pulled her back to his chest. He grinned when her head lolled back, resting on his shoulder, her bright blue eyes occluded by inky pupils, watching him. Grinding her ass against his crotch, she was ready to go again.

"Fuck me, my love."

"I love it when you talk dirty," he teased, and positioned himself before sliding home.

"I know you do," she panted, playfully biting his lower lip. "I also know you like to fuck me like an animal while you stare at my ass."

Gripping her hips, he began to move, thrusting hard and holding, again and again. Her internal muscles clasped him like a fist when he stilled inside her. Their battle of wills escalated until neither could take anymore and they came together in a cacophony of animalistic sounds, collapsing on their sides onto the king-sized mattress.

In a soft, slurred voice, Bedelia inquired, "Do you think anyone heard us?"

Pulling her close, he kissed the nape of her neck, inhaling the scent of her sweat, the wolf-in-sheep's-clothing perfume she wore, and them. Chuckling as the apt description of his beloved in comparison to her favorite scent, he kissed the line of her shoulder as he murmured, "Baby, we shook the gates of heaven. Of course they heard us."

Gently elbowing him, she snickered, "We really have to stop letting the children stay with us on this weekend."

"Delia, my light in the darkness, they are probably doing exactly what we were doing."

"Ugh, I don't want to think about it." She yawned and pulled his arm around her, snuggling against him as he held her close. "Can you get the covers? I'm a little chilly."

He grinned, snagging the comforter with his toes, pulling it up over them. He kissed the back of her head and whispered, "Good night, my reason for dying."

"Mmm, shut up and go to sleep, beloved."

~end part three~


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lengths Bedelia will go to protect those she loves.

Hannibal was up early as was his wont, sipping coffee and watching his wife sleep. As gorgeous, alluring and sophisticated as she was in the waking world, in sleep she was a hot mess. She slept sprawled on her stomach, her head turned toward him. Her mouth was open, she was snoring, and there was a visible drool stain on the blood red pillowcase. As much as he enjoyed his wife's put together perfection, it was this side he held most dear.

Carefully, he leaned over and kissed her forehead, noting that at some point in the night, she had risen and donned a royal blue chemise that hung loose on her tiny frame. A deep snore erupted from her and he stood, laughing silently as he slipped into the bathroom for a quick shower. He was reaching for clean boxers, a towel around his waist when he heard the first sounds preceding the unfolding drama. He quickly dropped the towel, pulled on his shorts and a pair of pajama pants, when the door flew open with such force it hit the wall behind it. Bedelia woke with a snort and sat bolt upright, her eyes wide, her blonde hair wild as it spilled over her shoulders and down her back.

"The fuck, Seb?! Are you trying to kill us?"

"Delia, my love, that would mean we were alive, which we aren't," Hannibal reminded impishly.

"Something is wrong with Phoebe, Ummu. She's having pain."

"Go get Jacob."

"She has a female doctor."

"I'm not a doctor, Seb."

"No, but you've have babies. You've lost babies. She just wants to know if she's losing ours."

"Okay, but if she is, Seb, she has to go to a hospital. She will need medical attention and Jacob cannot provide the proper care."

"I know, but I think she's hoping it's just cramping due to the changes in her body," he said, leading her into their room. "Hon, Mom's here."

"Seb," Phoebe sobbed from the bed, staring between her legs. He rushed to her and held her hands, tears in his eyes.

"Jesus, she's having a miscarriage," Bedelia said softly. "Seb, get Jacob and Gretchen. She's an OB nurse."

"No ambulance. Seb can drive me to the hospital."

"Are you certain, my dear?" Hannibal spoke gently to her, sensitive to her loss, having been through this pain with Bedelia.

"Yes, thank you."

"I'm so sorry for your loss," Bedelia murmured, taking her hand. "I've lost children myself, so I do understand how painful it is."

"Thank you for saying that, it's very kind of you."

"Of course, dear. With the proper medical treatment, I'm sure you will be able to try again."

"Mother?" Jacob hurried to his mother's side, Gretchen hot on his heels. "Okay, everyone but Gretchen, outside."

"I want to stay with Phoebe," Sebastian said firmly.

"Seb, the fewer people in here, the better, all right?" Gretchen touched his shoulder, her eyes sorrowful. "You can come back after we get her cleaned up, all right?"

Hannibal and Bedelia each took one of his arms, pulling him from the bedroom. He buried his face in his hands for a moment and began to pace. His parents exchanged a look and Hannibal stopped him, resting his hands on Seb's shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Son. I truly am."

"No, I know. It's just a shock to have it end this way."

"At least this will make it easier for you both to let go."

"Let go? That's your concern?"

This confirmed the suspicions each had but had not spoken aloud. He planned to get around his mother by turning Phoebe after the baby was born, thinking they would forgive him and accept the situation. He had no idea how wrong he was, nor how dangerous a situation he had put himself, and Phoebe, in.

Bedelia grabbed him by the throat and pinned him to the wall, her fangs bared, her eyes blood red. "Did you really think you could manipulate me so easily? Did you think it would escape my notice, or your Father's?"

"I love her," he said simply.

"You were going to defy me as if my words had no meaning," she hissed, tightening her grip to show the strength of her resolve to him, and the others who had gathered, "And that is simply unacceptable. You think in your short existence you have more wisdom than I? That you understand and see things more clearly than I do?"

"Of course not, but I love her. I can't just leave her now. Especially now."

"And still you dare to prove your point?"

"Just walk away," Henri urged his brother. He was fully aware of what their mother was capable of when it came to protecting the clan. "You're too young to understand the truth of immortality and that love can be a fickle bitch. This is your first serious relationship and you have only known her for a few months, but you have already proposed and started a family. You haven't met this girl's family or friends. You don't know each other well enough to make a leap like this. Marriage isn't romance and sex whenever you want it. It's really hard work."

"You sound like Dad, always talking down to me as if I was stupid. The perfect marriage had been in front of me my whole life, don't you think I know what to look for?"

Snickers erupted around him, even from his own father. He looked around through narrowed eyes, his anger mounting, thinking they were laughing at him.

"You silly child," Bedelia snapped, dropping him on his feet. "Our marriage isn't perfect and never has been. Just because we don't drag our problems out in front of you doesn't mean we don't have them."

He looked at his mother, stung. He had always been the apple of her eye and even when angry with him, she had never spoken so harshly to him. "What is going on, Mom? Is there something you're not telling me?"

"Tell him, Mother. I know this isn't how you planned it, or even how it went with any of us, but he has a right to know before he makes a huge mistake."

"Know what? What is going on?"

"You haven't reached maturity, Son," Hannibal said quietly, taking his wife's hand.

"What does that mean? I'm a grown man."

"It is the term we use to indicate the ability to reproduce. We don't reach maturity until we're two hundred years old. There is no way that is your child and had it been born, it would have been completely human, and impossibility with an Upir parent."

"That is why I did not give you the option of turning her after the baby's birth. I don't know what her game is, but she can play it with some other man."

"It's not true."

"It is true," Embeth said, stepping forward. "Why do you think I have no children? I just reached maturity, but as you know, we can only conceive every decade. I only have a few months left to conceive for the next ten years."

"But Graham is your son."

"Graham was adopted. His mother abandoned him because even at 200 she "wasn't ready" to have a child." She looked at him hard and asked, "Do you not know anything that goes on in this family or is it only a concern for you when it affects you?"

"Embeth," Bedelia warned.

"No, Mom, it's time he heard some hard truths." She faced off with her baby brother, her blue eyes flashing dangerously. "Your disagreement with Dad was childish. They gave you the best of everything, softened every blow they could for you, and still you're ungrateful. I remember the lean times, before the business, because no one had any idea about bloody transfusions or typing or platelets. And my childhood was a thousand times easier than Julia's or Henri's. You've had all the modern conveniences, you were the sole focus of their lives, and at nearly thirty, you're still whining like a child. Grow up and be a man! You rushed into this relationship. It was all about sex, and she nearly rooked you into giving another man's child your name and a share of our family's fortune. That's the real truth, the one you don't want to have to face or accept."

"Embeth, that's enough," Hannibal said sharply.

"Fine, Dad, soften the blow once again for poor little Seb. Always a victim, never responsible for his choices."

They made a space for her to pass through and she vanished downstairs without another word. Everyone was thinking it, but no one wanted to say it aloud and upset Bedelia. Hannibal wrapped his arms around his wife's waist, pulling her against his chest, both of them watching Seb.

"It's true," he muttered, his hands resting on his hips. "She's right, about all of it. I didn't worry about getting to know her, I took everything she said at face value. I assumed she was giving me honesty, but she conned me and I was too blind to see it. I wonder if she was already pregnant when we met. Don't worry, I'll find out all the details before she leaves."

"Sebastian, don't. Jacob will take her to the hospital and put her on a train home. You will stay here with us until you calm down."

"That won't be any time soon, Mother. Are you planning to hold me here indefinitely?"

"If need be. You want revenge and I won't allow you to expose us all for it."

"You have taken revenge in the past!"

"I have, but I was smart about it. It's a dish best served cold, māru."

"You aren't going to deny it to me?"

"No, not if you want it. But it will take time and planning."

"Then I'm willing to wait."

"Wonderful. Now, everybody go, go back to whatever you were doing."

When everyone scattered, Hannibal asked, "Have you had breakfast?"

"Yes."

"Would you like us to wait with you until Jacob and Gretchen come out?"

"No, I give you my word I won't do anything to her. Not yet. Mom, go get dressed, have breakfast. I swear to you I won't move from this spot."

"When the time comes to pack her off, I'll be doing the talking. I don't want you in the room. Is that clear?"

"Yes."

"I mean it, Sebastian. You tried to lie to us once already. If you are lying now, the consequences will be severe."

"I swear to you, I'm not lying."

"For your sake, I hope not."

Hannibal gave his son a threatening look as he followed Bedelia to their bedroom. He knew she was furious, angry enough to kill in fact, if the way she was yanking her robe on and savagely knotted the belt was any indication. He laid his hands on her shoulders, sliding them down her arms, loosely gripping them as he kisses the top of her head.

"Mieloji, please, don't go downstairs like this."

"I am perfectly decent."

"That isn't what I mean and you know it. You are ready to rip someone's throat open. I can take it, but the children don't deserve this."

"I'm fine, beloved."

"Phoebe."

"That little bitch is going to get what's coming to her, I'll see to that."

"Totally calm, huh?"

"I hate you right now," she snarled, curling her hands into fists.

"I know and I'm sorry I had to do that. But you have to calm down. Phoebe is going to get what's coming to her, we'll see to that. But don't let her spoil this weekend for us and the kids, all right? Don't give her that kind of power."

"You're right. You're right," she muttered, raking her hands through her hair. "I'm sorry. Let's go eat breakfast, get this kekše out of our home, and continue with our family weekend."

He gently pulled her hands from her hair, lacing the fingers of one hand with hers, fingering a lock of her hair with the other. It fell midway down her back in loose curls and felt like silk. There was nothing he loved more than to run his fingers through it, to breathe in the scent of the lemon, rosemary and vanilla shampoo, to rub his face against it's luxurious softness. But most importantly, it soothed her when he played with it, massaging her scalp, tugging slightly as he worked.

"Come on, let's go eat."

Breakfast was a fairly somber affair, everyone avoiding the obvious topic because it would set their parents off, although for different reasons. And no one wanted Bedelia's anger focused on them, especially as an innocent party. They sat mostly in silence, or spoke of neutral topics.

"Mother?"

Looking up from the fruit she had been pushing around her plate, her eyes lock with Jacob's dark brown eyes. "Yes, māru?"

"We're taking Phoebe to the hospital now."

"Ah yes, a moment please." Rising, she tossed her napkin onto the table and was across the room quickly. "Phoebe, dear, I know you're hurting, but I need just a moment of your time."

"Of course. Do you mind if I sit?"

"No, please sit, this won't take long." Bedelia smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes, it was utterly reptilian and cold. "I wanted to say that whatever game you've been playing is over."

"Game? I-I don't-"

"Sebastian was not the father of your child."

"How dare you! Of course he was!"

"No, he was not. He is unable to sire children. Perhaps you should have done better research before choosing your mark."

"It-It wasn't like that. I-Before Seb and I became serious, I had a one night stand with a guy from one of my study groups. I had hoped and prayed it was Seb's, I told myself it was only one time, despite knowing rationally it only takes once. I love him, Miss Bedelia, you have to believe me."

"I don't believe a single word that comes out of your lying mouth. In fact, I doubt very seriously you're from South Carolina as I detected a hint of Yorkshire hiding in your voice. So, why don't you tell me another one."

"Fuck you," Phoebe hissed in her native Yorkshire accent, glaring at the older woman. "You figured it all out, aren't you bloody brilliant."

"I just know a fortune-hunting whore when I see one. If you come near my family again, you won't live to regret it, do you understand me?"

"Yes. I won't bother you anymore. Will you at least give me a lift to the hospital?"

"You won't be needing one."

Bedelia was a blur of movement. One moment Phoebe was seated, the next the smaller woman was holding the younger woman by the throat, her fangs bared. Eyes bulging, too frightened to attempt to scream, her bladder released as Bedelia sank her teeth into Phoebe's jugular, draining her dry in a matter of moments. Dropping the corpse onto the hardwood floor, she whirled as someone approached from behind.

"Mieloji, you promised Seb revenge."

"She was more treacherous than we first knew, Father," Gretchen said, her green eyes serious. "Nothing about her was real. She wasn't even American. She was from England, she knew the child she was carrying wasn't Seb's. I seriously doubt she was a student either."

"I see. I'll get rid of her before he sees this."

"Thank you, dādu." Rising on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek. "I'll explain things to Seb."

"No, don't. Let him think she simply vanished as quickly as she appeared. We will tell him what she confessed and when there is no trace of her to be found, he will know with certainty everything with her was a lie."

"It's for the best, Mother," Jacob said quietly, nodding at her.

"All right." She nodded her agreement and turned, heading upstairs to dress.

"She got what she deserved," Gretchen stated firmly, when Bedelia was out of earshot.

"My hope is she was working alone, or your mother's protective instinct may harm us all."

~end part four~


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of fun for the Du Maurier clan

"Nana? Why do we eat food when we don't need to?"

Chuckling, Bedelia ruffled Graham's curly red hair. "Don't you like eating food?"

"Well, yes, but I was just wondering."

"Momma has explained that we are different, we are Upir?"

"Yeah, of course."

"But we have to appear like everyone else."

"Yeah."

"That is why we eat food."

"Then why when's it's just us here?"

"Because we all enjoy eating human food and because we must keep up appearances at all times. We must always blend in with them, do you understand, my love?"

"Yes, Nana. I was just wondering."

"I know, baby." She cuddled him close, kissing the top of his head. "I am always here if you want to ask any questions, or if you just want to talk."

"Can you tell me how we began?"

"Our family or Upir?"

"Upir."

"I don't know, dearest. I asked my Momma the same question when I was your age, but she said she had never known anyone who knew. But I believe the Lord created us, so he must have a plan for us too."

"Do you think the Lord forgives us for when we hurt people?"

"We have not hurt people in many years, not since the humans learned about donating blood to save lives. We got into the business of handling blood to give us access to our food source so we wouldn't be forced to hurt people anymore. I'm so grateful you will never have to know how it feels to have to harm someone to stay alive, not when so many people all over the world willingly give their blood to help others."

"Is there enough to go around? For us and for everyone who needs it?"

"Yes, beloved, there is. We are not greedy, we take only what we need. And those of us who are older, do not need so much as you children."

"Nana? Was life harder when you were my age?"

"In some ways, yes. In some ways, no. It was much easier to move on and start over when it was time. It's lucky for us we age to a certain point, as humans do, then we are ageless. Well, that is the case for pure Upir. If they are turned, as Papa was, they stay the age they are forever."

"So Papa was born old?"

"Out of the mouths of babes," Hannibal said wryly, leaning in the doorway of their shared office.

"Your Papa is not old," she chided, unable to conceal a chuckle, "He is distinguished."

"Thank you, beloved," he said, sticking his tongue out at his grandson.

The boy giggled, returning the gesture. Hannibal growled and lunged at them, making the six year old scream in delight as he climbed into Bedelia's lap for protection. She laughed, wrapping her arms around the boy, pulling him close. Hannibal attacked, tickling them both mercilessly, laughing at their shrieks of joy. He collapsed, next to them, pulling them into his arms, kissing both of them on the tops of their heads.

"What have you two been up to all afternoon?"

"Nothing," Graham said slyly, grinning at his grandmother.

Winking at him, she echoed, "Nothing."

"I think you two are fibbing."

"Never," she feigned outrage and Graham giggled, covering his mouth. "Where is everyone anyway? Usually, when it's this quiet, there is mischief afoot."

"Some of the kids are on the boat, a few are sunbathing or swimming, some are napping," he raised his eyebrows knowingly, "Skip took the kids to the mall, ugh, and we're apparently hosting a hen party in the kitchen. They're drinking wine and baking things."

"Cookies?" Graham perked up at the idea.

"Yes, my boy, of all kinds."

"Bye," he chirped, scampering out of the room, much to his grandparents' amusement.

"I can't believe they are drinking wine without me," she groused.

"Even worse, they're drinking our wine. Without either of us."

"We should kick their asses."

They scrambled to their feet and giggled like schoolchildren as they pushed, shoved and jockeyed for better position to get to the kitchen first. They tumbled into the kitchen at the same time, laughing, and their daughters shook their heads good-naturedly at their parents' antics. The group consisted mainly of the eldest daughters, who had lived through life pre-Hannibal, and had witnessed some of their mother's previous marriages and lovers. No one was so well-suited for her as he was, theirs was a match made for great literature. Unfortunately, great literature was no longer written.

"Don't you have anything to say for yourselves?"

"About?" Julia looked at her mother with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

"You're swilling our wine and you didn't even invite us to the party?" Hannibal glowered at his daughters.

"We're supposed to invite you to drink your wine, in your house?"

"No, you're supposed to ask before you raid the wine cellar, but we've moved past that already," Bedelia said, crossing her arms against her chest. "Now we are at the 'failure to invite your parents to drink their own wine and listen to gossip' portion of the segment."

"Ok, sorry, we messed up," Julie grumbled.

"And you were having fun with Graham, Mom. Dad, we weren't sure what you were up to."

"I was seeing to our former guest."

"I thought she left?" Graham looked at his Grandfather curiously.

"She did, mylimo. No reason to worry yourself."

"Ok, Papa." The boy grinned, his lips and teeth stained green from frosting.

Hannibal laughed, ruffling Graham's messy red hair, dropping a kiss to the top of his head. Over the boy's head, he gave his wife and daughters a pointed, albeit unnecessary, look of warning. Bedelia handed him a glass of pinot noir, her arm sliding around his waist as she smiled up at him.

"Drink up. Troy will be back with the kids any time."

"So, that's why you're getting your buzz on," Bedelia said with a smirk.

"You probably should too. Troy always gets them the most obnoxious toys and games, if you recall. Remember last Christmas when he got them Twister, Operation and UNO Attack? And he taught the older kids to play poker?"

"Ugh, I'd forgotten about that," Hannibal groaned, taking a gulp of Pinot. "I'll be in the kitchen, helping Martha with dinner."

"As will I," Bedelia chimed in, nuzzling her husband's arm. "Then I'm going to hide somewhere quiet with a bottle of wine."

Hannibal whispered in her ear, "And me."

"That's a given."

"Ahem, there is a child in the room," Julie reminded them wryly.

"And he is more than welcome to hide with us if he wants to." Releasing her husband, she kissed the boy's temple, resting her hands on his shoulders. In his ear, she murmured playfully, "If we didn't eat human food, you wouldn't be enjoying those cookies."

Wide-eyed, he blurted out, "We have to eat people food forever!"

Chuckling, Bedelia said, "You may not want to eat cookies forever. Some people grow up and don't like cookies so much anymore."

Solemnly, he asked, "Do you still like cookies, Nana? I've hardly seen you eat them."

"I do like cookies, but I have to watch my figure, so I can't eat them every day."

"Watch it do what?"

The adults laughed and Graham looked at them in puzzlement.

~end part 5~


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of talking. A lot of action too.

Hannibal climbed into bed beside his lovely wife. She was propped up on a mountain of pillows, reading a novel, her glasses perched on the end of her nose. A smile tugged at her lips but she kept her eyes on the page in front of her, sneaking the occasional glance at him from the corner of her eye.

"What are you reading?"

"Anna Karenina."

"Before bed, on a full stomach? You're a brave woman."

"It isn't as if I haven't read it before. I read it when it was new, if you recall."

"I do, but I still think you've got guts. I know it's a classic, but Tolstoy is tedious."

"Have you ever read it?"

"Once. I wanted to kill myself thirty pages in."

Bedelia clucked her tongue disapprovingly, looking at him over the rims of her glasses with narrowed eyes. "If she was Upir, she would have eliminated everyone who ruined her."

"Dearest, she played a big part in her ruination," Hannibal reminded.

"Whose side are you on?"

"The truth, beloved. She consented to the affair, despite her status as a married woman and a mother, openly flouted the relationship despite full knowledge her disgrace would cost her custody of her son. She was a victim of hypocrisy and gossip mongering, but don't assert she was an innocent victim."

"It's just not fair!"

"Life isn't fair. Pretending otherwise is disingenuous."

"I hate it when you're rational."

"I know."

"I hate it even more when you're right." Biting her lip, she glanced at him, and it was obvious she was debating something with herself far more serious than the tragic story of Anna Karenina.

"What is on your mind, my slice of heaven?"

She groaned at his cheesy pet name. "I feel absolutely horrible for lying to Graham today."

"That God created us?"

"So, you overheard our conversation."

"I did."

"I couldn't bear to tell him the truth. He's so innocent and sweet, I couldn't bring myself to tell him, 'Sorry, short stack, your existence is courtesy of an ancient curse placed on half the people in my village back in the day,' could I?"

He chuckled, "No, that would not have been appropriate to tell a six year old. And we don't know what Embeth wants him to know or how she wants to tell him. Not to mention, she would approve of your explanation, as you well know."

"I do, perhaps that's why I explained it in that way."

"My love, may I ask you a question that is completely off topic?"

She sighed, removing her glasses, marking her place and closing the leather bound book with a snap. "Shoot."

"You had no intentions of allowing Sebastian his revenge, did you? You planned to kill her after we learned the truth."

"I did."

"Why?"

"Because Sebastian is sensitive. You and I both know he wouldn't be able to live with himself, if he had been able to do it at all," she murmured, resting her head on his chest.

"I know," he stroked her hair, dropping kisses to the top of her head.

"Which is why you added a little extra spice to her ceviche by way of Embeth."

"You don't miss a trick, do you?"

"I was pleased you took care of it, honestly. I didn't relish the idea of killing a pregnant human."

"We knew you didn't, that's why we took care of that part for you."

"Did you suspect her wouldn't be able to let her go?"

"Of course I did. I know our son, he doesn't have it in him to take a life. No matter how deep the betrayal."

"What will we do with him? None of us can go through another situation like this again."

"I feel confident he has learned a hard lesson from this. He won't be caught up again so easily by anyone, especially a human."

"His senses are shit now. We worked with him, I worked with him until his were so keen they were better than mine at times."

"He's been among humans too long. He is forgetting he is Upir, his abilities have atrophied."

"I guess I'll be spending my time retraining him."

"No, he will be practicing, sharpening his skills again. I'll not let him put the family through this again. I'm just glad none of the grandchildren saw anything."

"Oh hell, I was so angry I didn't even think about them." Raking her hands through her long hair, clenching her hands into fists and pulling slightly. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"My love," he murmured, pulling her into his strong arms, kissing her temple. "Stop. Stop torturing yourself. They are fine, they didn't see or hear anything. That doesn't mean they didn't overhear the kids talking, but they will more than likely be impressed by their badass Granny."

Tilting her head back, she quirked an eyebrow and asked dryly, "Badass Granny?"

"Yeah, I heard Noah call you that earlier and I've been dying to use it."

"You asshole," she hissed, pinning him to the mattress, glaring at his laughing face. She was unable to feign anger for very long and playfully frogged him in the chest.

"Ow, Delia, damn." He winced, rubbing the tender spot. "Kipling was right, the female of the species is more deadly than the male."

"Don't you forget it." She winked impishly before capturing his lips for a hungry kiss.

"What will it be tonight?"

"Oh, it's about me?"

He snickered against her jaw, "What's good for you is good for me."

Her fingers slid into his hair, her fingers tightening suddenly. Lifting his head, her eyes met his. "Do you have a fantasy I haven't discovered?"

"I'm confident we have uncovered every secret the other has by now."

"Are you so sure?"

"Have you been holding out on me, my love?"

Coyly, she responded, "Perhaps."

Wiggling eagerly, he urged, "Tell me everything."

"Have you withheld none from me? Not even one so deep and dark you have been afraid to tell me?"

"Perhaps," he teased.

"Tell me, my love. What's your fantasy?"

"You."

"Be serious."

"I am," he murmured. He traced her cheekbone with his index finger, her lower lip with her thumb. "You, in every way imaginable, are my fantasy. Put together, utterly wrecked, and everything in between."

In a choked voice, she whispered, "You're too good to be true."

"No, I'm not. I don't normally believe in trite concepts like fate or destiny, but you and I were meant to be. You know I don't believe in the concept of God, but something bigger than all of us had its hand on the each of us, and it led us to each other."

"Waxing philosophical, beloved? That isn't like you. At least not of topics of fate and destiny," she needled, a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

He growled mock threateningly, "No more talking."

Running her palm down his chest to his muscular abdomen, she murmured, "Mmm, shall I say hello to my little friend?"

"Well, hello, purty lady." Hannibal made an attempt at a Texas drawl, a really bad one, which made Bedelia laugh. Rolling his eyes, he took her hand and brought it to his crotch, rubbing against her heel. "Not laughing now, I see."

"Is this your not-so-subtle way of suggesting you'd like some reverse cowgirl action tonight?"

"Too obvious?"

"Little bit, but I'm happy that we're comfortable enough to openly discuss what we like and what isn't working. We are still communicating after all these years, and that makes or breaks a relationship."

"I love you."

"I love you too. More than is probably healthy for either of us."

Meeting in the middle for a slow, tender kiss, tongues caressing, as hands wandered well-traversed landscapes, knowing exactly how to inflame. Neither were wearing much, so it took little time to strip to bare skin. As Hannibal gripped the backs of her thighs, urging her to settle on his face, pulling a whimper of anticipation from her parted lips.

Opening her with his thumbs, he began to lave and suckle, bracing her by her hips as she began to squirm restlessly above him. As his tongue slid into her, she went wild above him, moaning, panting, dripping everywhere. She didn't know what to do with her hands, they squeezed her breasts, his wrists as he held her firmly, her nails left half-moon marks in her upper thighs, finally coming to rest on the walnut Louis XVI headboard, gripping it for dear life.

"Oh oui, mon amour, oui! Baise-moi," she wailed loudly. Very loudly. She threw back her head and cried out, gushing and shivering violently. After a moment, she released the headboard, scooting off of Hannibal's face, collapsing beside him on her back. He turned onto his side, facing her, lightly tracing patterns on her skin. "This never gets old, my love."

"When you started speaking French, I was completely shocked. I haven't heard you speak it since your friend, um, passed away."

"It's all right, dādu, you can say it. She was beheaded."

"Executed," he corrected gently. "Why don't we change the subject?"

"Poor, sweet Marie." She shook her head sadly. "I am so happy we had already left France. Can you imagine their reactions when our heads could not be severed by the guillotine?"

"Eventually, they would have found the limits of our immortality."

"True enough."

Biting her lip, she teased his nipple with her lips, tongue and teeth, her hand finding his erection. She stroked him slowly, her thumb occasionally teasing the head. He cursed softly and she grinned, kissing her way down his body. She reached his pelvis, nipped his hip, and moved lower, teasing his length with her tongue. His fingers sank into her blonde locks as her mouth engulfed him, connecting physically and emotionally with her as her head began to bob in his lap.

"Delia, love, stop. I'm close and we don't want to waste any."

Giving him one last suck, she lifted her head, slowly releasing his flesh, giving the nerve-rich spot beneath the head a tantalizing flick goodbye, before rising up on her knees. She turned her back to him, straddling his hips, reaching for him. Resting one hand on her hip, he gently pushed hers away as he aligned them and urged her to sink onto him.

"Ohhhhh Gooood," she whispered, biting her lower lip, overwhelmed by the slow penetration.

"Oh yeah," he groaned, squeezing her ass cheeks.

His hands moved to grip her waist, controlling her movements, clenching his teeth as he struggled to wait for her. Sensing his predicament, she brought one hand between her legs and began to stroke, her hand falling back, eyes closing, as she lost herself to sensation. He began cursing in his native tongue, an old Baltic one Bedelia didn't know well, except for the filth that was escaping him now. It made her smile as she began to work toward her own pleasure in earnest.

Bracing herself with one hand on his thigh, she worked her hips, selfish in her pursuit at this point because Hannibal was almost gone. He yelled, holding her with bruising force as he coated her insides with his essence.

"God, beloved, I'm so sorry," he panted, raising his hands to her breasts, twisting her nipples gently.

"Don't stop. Almost...there." Her last word came out as a long, loud moan, her body stiffening under his hands briefly before slumping bonelessly. He gathered her in his arms and she hummed contentedly, snuggling into his warmth. "I love you, dādu, so very much."

"I love you as well, beloved. More with each passing day."

"My love, tell me honestly, if I cannot have anymore children, will you be disappointed?"

"No," he soothed tenderly, cupping her jaw with one hand, gently lifting her head to stare into her eyes. "If Seb was to be the last, then I will spend my days loving you just as I do now. Do you remember the vow I made on you on our wedding night? The same vow I've made to you every night since?"

"Of course I remember. 'I loved you then as I love you now.' We have survived so much together, have grown as close as two people can possibly be. You have made immortality bearable."

"That means a lot coming from you, beloved, considering how much older you are."

"Asshole," she grumbled, though she is smiling.

"You are everything to me. If I didn't have you and the children, I would have given into despair long ago. We have made one hundred and thirty-seven children together, if that is the limit of our combined gene pool, so be it. I will love you as I do now. I married you, not your womb. Ok, not only your womb. If you remember, I started asking you to marry me nearly twenty years before we had our eldest, Jackson."

Chuckling softly, she scooted around, lying on top of him, her blue eyes bright. "Do you remember the night we conceived him?"

"Of course I do," he said huskily, rubbing his nose against hers. "You were so beautiful it made my heart ache. And after the ball ended, when we returned home to find poor Jakab clutching his little girl, I wanted to kill the bitch myself."

"Orsolya was such a sweet child and so very lovely. It broke my heart to see her in that state. If not for Matthias, I would have shown Countess Báthory what it meant to be Upir."

"She very nearly exposed us all. It was lucky for us all that your lineage was as prestigious then as it still is. Had you not had Matthias' ear, I shudder to think what might have happened. He might never have listened to Thurzó in the first place, had you not told him Jakab and Orsolya's story."

"Had you not been suspicious and put the pieces together, she might well have gone undetected forever."

"If she had not gone after her own class, no one would have cared, and that is the sad truth of it. I am glad we are not soulless, as the old stories go. We are not all decent, but in this family, we are the best citizens we can be and manage the ones who aren't."

"It is our nature to be mindless killing machines, but we are not slaves to the hunger. Mother taught her children how to control it and I taught mine."

"And me."

With a loving smile, she caressed his cheekbone and murmured, "And you. But you weren't always so discriminating in your tastes, my love. You came to learn that the evil-doers of the world taste far sweeter than the righteous."

"If I had only listened to you from the beginning." He raised his head, captured her lips in a tender kiss, his hands roaming her back, ass, and upper thighs. "I don't regret you taking my mortal life, mon amour. You are everything to me."

"I hated myself for doing it," she admitted, closing her eyes. "But I couldn't just let you pass into nothingness because of Lucrezia's psychopathy."

"I can only imagine the horrors you have seen and survived. You've shared your romantic past, and I know on the whole, it was very dark. I also know it is the reason you had so few children before me, compared with other Upir women, especially clan leaders. You did not want to be tied to anyone by giving them great numbers of children."

"A husband could divorce a woman who was unable to bear children or carry a child to term. I was lucky to be born an Upir of high birth, no mortal husband dared to try to eliminate me because of my social position and an Upir mate knew they would be dead before they got to the front door if anything happened to me."

"Why did you choose mostly human husbands?"

"Money and position. Mother always told me there was never too much of either. This was long before I understood I did not have to put up with a man's bullshit."

"When did you realize?"

"God, Hannibal, I don't know. My first two husbands beat me, sometimes brutally. I knew I couldn't give them children, but no one suspected such darkness lurked within them. Mother appeared unannounced late one night and he beat me for it. Two days later, he was killed in a hunting accident no one was ever able to explain. I'm not sure anyone cared to, honestly, there were already whispers about what was happening behind closed doors. I always suspected it was Mother, but I didn't have the courage to ask, and I was ashamed of my weakness.

"My second husband, she killed him in front of me. She heard me crying, came into my rooms, and found him raping me. He was cursing me for being childless, accusing me of some pretty awful things. The next thing I knew, she was straddling him on the floor, draining him dry. It was then she explained to me an Upir woman takes no siliāti, especially from men like them."

"I truly hope she didn't blame you."

"No, she was quite upset we misunderstood each other. She assumed I knew, as Upir, if a husband was abusing me, I knew to protect myself at all costs. Her comment about money and power wasn't meant as I took it.

"As a clan mother, I came into my full power far younger than the average Upir. I healed rapidly, I could use mind tricks on humans, I was faster and stronger. I was to be asserting my position with my first two marriages, not letting them beat me down. So, rather than marrying again, I took a lover, rebuilt my shattered self-esteem and learned how to be a clan mother using him. I chose one of the worst men I could find, closed off my heart and went to work on him. I accidentally killed him. I forgot how fragile humans were."

"I have no doubt he deserved it."

"He did. It came as a great shock to him when I showed him what I really was because while the curse was common knowledge, no one really believed in it, and I took the utmost pleasure in his death. It was anything but quick, though far too fast for what I had planned."

"Have I told you how much I adore your wicked side?"

"Frequently."

"Cheeky woman."

"You like that too."

"I do," he replied in a low, deep voice, making her giggle and snuggle closer to him.

~end part 6~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Siliāti is the Akkadian word for "bullshit." Even our ancestors knew some people always throwin' shade. ;)


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